How Prussia Stole Christmas
by Hazel-Beka
Summary: A parody of 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas'. Prussia decides that he's sick of getting socks and being alone at Christmas, so he decides to get rid of it - Grinch style. Can Italy save the day? Written in Dr Seuss-style rhyme and narrated by England


**A/N - Hey guys! First of all, for those who read Duties, the last chapter _is_ in progress and now that I'm not working on this, it'll be up before too long. But aside from that, this fic was stupidly hard to write and I would have completely failed without the help of an online rhyming dictionary (though I wrote parts of this without it, so I can do it if I try!). This isn't perfect and you're going to have to be inventive with stresses sometimes, though I think most of the verses sound good. But hopefully the story will make up for that anyway! So I hope you enjoy my little festive fic and have a happy Christmas and a wonderful New Year!**

**How Prussia Stole Christmas**

'Twas the night before Christmas in Europe one year  
Not a nation was stirring, and midnight was near  
Even Sealand was tucked up and sleeping in bed  
…wait, this opening's not Seuss – forget what I said

Every nation in Europe loved Christmas a lot  
But one country, who lived with his brother, did not  
He had always detested the whole celebration  
But no one cared since he's no longer a nation

"Oi, that was just mean – I was great at one time."  
What the-? Who are you, interrupting my rhyme?!  
"I'm Prussia, you moron: the star of this show.  
Hey England, is that you?" You idiot, no!

"You liar, no one else could have eyebrows that big.  
So tell me, why the fuck are you wearing that wig?"  
Shut up, it makes me feel more like a narrator  
Now piss off, you wanker, I'll deal with you later!

So as I was saying, one nation was moaning  
That the presents he got were just never worth owning  
It was too bloody cold, and the carols were crap  
And it cost far too much; there was too much to wrap

This idiot would have been whining all day  
But Germany, sick of it, sent him away  
And so Prussia, the Scrooge I was talking about  
(Just in case you somehow hadn't figured that out)  
Went outside to sulk more as he plodded along  
And then – oh shit, this verse is now two lines too long!

So anyway, Prussia walked through the thick snow  
He wondered what he could do, where he could go  
And he thought and he thought, and then suddenly knew  
Exactly what dastardly deeds he would do

"I've got it!" he shouted, while punching the air  
"I'll steal away Christmas! The whole daft affair!  
I'll show them what happens when they buy me socks!  
I'll climb down their chimneys and unpick their locks,

I'll steal all the presents and stockings and trees  
From the Germans and Spaniards and Poles and Chinese!  
OK, maybe not China – it's too far away  
But Europe at least will have no Christmas Day."

And the poor passers-by could do nothing but stare  
As he plotted out loud on the way to his lair  
And he – hang on, a lair? Where could he have a lair?  
"That's for me to know, England, and not you – so there."

Well, somehow this git had a cave or a hall -  
"It's a lair!" Don't lie – shit, we just broke the fourth wall!  
"It was already broken. No need to freak out.  
So just carry on going." But Prussia–! "Don't shout."

Fine, I'll keep on narrating, but don't interrupt  
So anyway, Prussia's small heart was corrupt  
Well, it always had been, but now even more so  
As he entered his lair and he shut out the snow

"There's a few things I need," he said, looking around.  
"First a sleigh and some reindeers to get off the ground  
Then some really big sacks for the presents and trees  
Oh, and maybe a rope to climb down the chimneys."

He searched for a sleigh and a reindeer to fly it  
The latter was easy – his Gilbirds could try it  
He made some small pairs of antlers for his birds  
Who all looked like they thought the idea was absurd

And then Prussia decided to make his own sleigh  
Out of cardboard and duct tape and papier-mâché  
Did he really think Gilbirds could lift up that box?  
I guess he was stupid. "No – just sick of socks."

When he'd finished, he stared at his sleigh with delight  
It was crimson with 'Prussia rulez' written in white  
He attached the reigns – Gilbirds were cheeping with dread –  
And leapt into it, grinning with glee, then he said:

"On, Gilbird! And Gilbird and Gilbird and Gilbird!  
And Gilbird and Gilbird and Gilbird and Gilbird!"  
Why didn't he give his chicks more than one name?  
I think I can tell you – he's fucking insane

And yet somehow, that sleigh rose up into the sky  
And I'm losing all faith in this story – God, why?  
But the Gilbirds were flapping and flapping away  
Until they broke physics and lifted the sleigh

It was magical up in the cold, starlit sky  
It filled Prussia with glee, and he let out a cry:  
"You're going down Santa – don't think you can win!"  
And he steered the sleigh, heading straight down to Berlin

It was soon after this that he spotted his prey  
And he cackled a little and steered down the sleigh  
It made barely a sound on the cold snowy roof  
Of the first of the victims of this Christmas spoof

And to whom, do you think, did this rooftop belong?  
Well, you're probably not stupid, therefore not wrong  
It was Germany's house – his own brother's abode  
"We'll see who's on the naughty list now," Prussia crowed

But the chimney was narrow, how could Prussia fit?  
And why didn't he just use the front door, that git?  
"I lost my key – West wouldn't give me another."  
I'm not surprised. Really, I pity your brother.

So Prussia now put on a jolly red suit  
And a fake beard, then slid down the dark chimney chute  
Wait, what? I'm not buying this, he's not that thin.  
"It was magic." No, you found another way in.

But whatever, somehow he had entered the room  
Where bright, twinkling fairy lights lit up the gloom  
There were stockings and presents and candles – the lot  
And, of course, there was sherry for Santa. "Jackpot!"

So at once Prussia got to work downing the booze  
As his brother, upstairs, still continued to snooze  
Then he started to put presents into his sack  
Not realising someone was stood at his back

"Excuse me," a small voice said after a pause  
"But I think that you're doing it wrong, Santa Claus.  
You're supposed to give presents, not take them away."  
Prussia turned round to see who had got in his way

It was Italy. Prussia frowned. Why was he there?  
More importantly, why was he totally bare?  
Prussia wasn't complaining, he quite liked the view  
But he needed a lie, and a damn good one too

"Oh, uh," Prussia said, as he thought up one quick  
"Well I'm sure that you recognise me as Saint Nick  
'Cause I'm certainly not Prussia, nope, not at all.  
See, the problem is, um, that your tree is too small

And I gave you the wrong presents, silly old me  
So I'm taking them back, and I'm fixing your tree.  
But don't worry, I'll bring them back later tonight  
So go back to bed. Um. Ho ho ho. And goodnight."

Now if anyone else had heard that porky pie  
They'd have known in an instant that it was a lie  
There's no one else who would've Adam and Eve'd it  
"That rhyming slang's real?" You better believe it.

But anyway, leaving the Cockney aside  
Italy didn't realise that Prussia had lied  
So he smiled and said "Thanks, Germany will be glad  
That you've helped us so much." That poor, gullible lad

And so Italy happily went back upstairs  
Leaving Prussia to go off and make the 'repairs'  
And indeed Prussia went with the presents and tree  
And the stockings and lights, right back up the chimney

And he loaded them onto the back of his sleigh  
Laughing maniacally as he then went on his way  
I feel sorry for Italy, really I do  
Prussia can be a right twat sometimes. "So can you."

After that, Prussia flew through the dark, snowy night  
To steal Christmas away from nations left and right  
I don't know how he fit it all into his sleigh  
Or how he robbed a whole continent in one day

But he visited Italy, England and Spain  
…Oi, you bastard, that's my house! "Wait, I can explain!"  
Oh, you're getting a bollocking later, just wait  
"I'll buy you a drink?" Yeah, you bloody will, mate

So from Russia to France, Prussia flew through the air  
As the countries slept on, they were all unaware  
He stole everything Christmassy that he could find  
And then took it away in the sleigh he'd designed

I'm not sure how he managed to fit it all in  
Or how Gilbirds could carry it back to Berlin  
But they managed somehow and they got to the lair  
So that Prussia could bask in his victory there

"I'm so awesome!" he crowed as he looked at his work  
"This'll teach Father Christmas, that stupid old jerk,  
And those morons who think Christmas Day will be great  
Will be sorry!" he said, and he sat down to wait

It was some hours later when morning began  
Italy woke up, got out of bed and then ran  
Into Germany's room where he jumped on the bed  
And then, waking the other, he smiled and he said:

"Ve, ve. Germany, guess what happened last night!  
I woke up and the snow had turned everything white  
So I got up to look, then heard something downstairs.  
It was Santa! He said your tree needed repairs

So he took it away, and the presents went too  
Since he made a mistake, then he left and he flew!  
I looked out of my window and saw him go by  
In his sleigh, then he disappeared into the sky."

After this, Germany turned to look at the time  
Then he yawned and asked "Why are you speaking in rhyme?"  
But then froze as it dawned on him what he had heard  
And he jumped out of bed to see what had occurred

He went down the stairs, Italy walking behind  
And he entered the lounge, switched the light on to find  
That the story was true, and the thing that concerned  
Germany was that nothing had yet been returned

He asked Italy: "Do you know what's going on  
And why everything that was here last night is gone?  
Because I don't think Santa would do this, do you?"  
Bloody Hell, it's about time someone got a clue!

But poor Italy didn't yet want to believe  
That the kind, jolly Santa had had him deceived  
"If we wait a while longer, he's sure to come back,"  
He said desperately, "Bringing our stuff in his sack."

But they waited and waited, and nobody came  
Though it slowly became clear that France was the same  
When he called them to say that his Christmas had gone  
Then some more Europeans each called one by one

By midday, all of Europe was cross and confused  
World War Three looked more likely as states were accused  
And North Italy started to feel more ashamed  
As he felt like he shared a large part of the blame

If he'd woken up Germany after last night  
And not gone back to bed, thinking it was all right  
Then just maybe their Christmas would all be OK  
And the fake Santa wouldn't have ruined their day

So when Germany started a meeting at two  
To find out who had caused this whole dreadful to-do  
Italy stood up, silencing Turkish and Greek  
All the arguments stopped as he started to speak:

"I know everyone's upset and angry," he said  
"But before all these arguments come to a head  
I just wanted to say that I don't think it's right  
That on Christmas Day we should be having a fight.

Just because all the tinsel and presents are gone  
Doesn't mean everyone shouldn't all get along.  
You see, Christmas is more than the gifts and the tree;  
It's a time to spend with your friends and family."

There was silence – a pause after Italy's speech  
As the nations considered what he'd tried to teach  
And North Italy hoped they'd now all get along  
But then Poland said, "That was, like, cute, but _so_ wrong.

Do you think that my fabulous hair styles itself?  
Girl, shut up, you know fashion is bought off a shelf.  
It's, like, totally not cool if Christmas is not  
An excuse to get stuff that'll make me look hot."

Then he flicked his hair, putting his hand on his hip  
Russia nodded agreement and Spain bit his lip  
Saying, "Sorry, I realise that we shouldn't shout  
But you don't understand what this day is about

It's commercial – a time to buy crap and get fat  
And you may think that's wrong, but we like it like that."  
Then the others all nodded, agreeing with him  
And poor Italy realised that he couldn't win

Even Germany couldn't look him in the eye  
But he wouldn't give up; he'd continue to try  
To make everyone happy on this Christmas Day  
So he left them to bicker and went on his way

A while later he'd wandered quite far in the snow  
As he wondered and pondered on where he should go  
And on what he should do, then he suddenly thought  
Of the countries he'd left as they'd shouted and fought

There was only one nation who hadn't been there  
So he turned and he started towards Prussia's lair  
Wait, hang on, how'd he know which direction to go?  
"Did I say that my lair was a secret?" Well, no

He arrived at the lair fairly quickly and knocked  
Then he waited as, slowly, the door was unlocked  
It was Prussia, of course, looking very surprised  
To see that it was Italy standing outside

"What are you doing here?" Prussia wanted to know  
The reply: "Sorry, I didn't know where to go  
But you weren't with the others, I was on my own  
So I thought that, together, we won't be alone."

It was Christmas goodwill of the sort Prussia loathed  
But he said, "Fine, come in, please just put on some clothes."  
And then Italy realised he was indeed bare  
Wait, so why didn't he freeze to death getting there?

And how come no one told him that he was still nude?  
I mean, really, I know they were having a feud  
But you wouldn't have thought they'd have been _that_ distracted  
(Or maybe in France's case, far too attracted)

But whatever, Italy entered the lair  
Then he stopped, his jaw dropped and he stood and he stared  
Prussia fidgeted slightly and shuffled away  
He'd forgotten that he hadn't hidden the sleigh

It was parked in the centre of that very room  
With the presents inside and his Santa costume  
So he sidled in front of it, trying to hide  
Any evidence that just could not be denied

It was too late, however; his secret was out  
And the whole world would soon know without any doubt  
It was Prussia who'd ruined the holiday season  
And Italy now asked him what was his reason

"You don't understand," Prussia said in reply  
"Just how much I hate Christmas – you want to know why?  
It's because all the presents I get are so crap  
And I really hate having to buy stuff and wrap

And I'm never invited to spend Christmas Day  
With my so-called friends – not that I care anyway.  
It's more fun to be by myself. Who needs those guys?  
Definitely not me! Wait, something's in my eye."

And he turned away, wiping the tears from his face  
But then suddenly found himself in an embrace  
He looked down to see Italy hugging him tight  
The small nation was touched by the story and sight

Of the tears that Prussia was trying to hide  
Because Italy knew that the Prussian had lied  
And that really, the other was very lonely  
He said, "This year, then, you can spend Christmas with me."

Then he smiled up at Prussia while still clinging on  
At those words, Prussia's 'bah humbug' mindset was gone  
I don't know what he thought of the hug, but they say  
That the Prussian's small heart grew three sizes that day

"Wait, you what? No it didn't, you're blatantly lying!"  
Oh, Prussia, for God's sake, you're not even trying  
"But really, that's not how biology works!"  
But this is a poem – that's one of the perks

You can make it all up and as long as it rhymes  
It's OK. Now shut up or I'll kick your behind.  
Oh, now look what you've done – you've just ruined the mood  
The feel-good Christmas spirit is totally screwed

"Do I look like I care?" Oh, you bloody will later  
Just wait until I've finished with you, you traitor  
But right now, I'll try to get back to my tale  
About how Christmas morals will always prevail

And so Italy somehow had opened a door  
And shown Prussia the light he had ignored before  
Maybe Christmas, he thought, isn't always a chore  
Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more

So he sent out a message to Europe to say  
'Look, I'm sorry I nicked off with your Christmas Day  
But I've realised that Christmas is something to share  
So come over to party with me in my lair.'

So the others all came – they forgave him, of course  
Well, at first they were pissed off, but he showed remorse  
And they wanted to get all their gifts back from him  
So they had to behave or they wouldn't get in

Then they partied and danced and drank into the night  
And they opened their gifts at the stroke of midnight  
Liechtenstein got a ribbon and France got a rose  
Belarus and Ukraine each got beautiful bows

And I think that it's time for an ending to this  
Before Prussia butts in again to take the piss  
So please think about this poem after I leave  
And- "Wait, hang on, you didn't say what I received!"

Oh, uh, Prussia, I didn't know you were still here  
"Spill! What were the presents they gave me that year?"  
Um, I don't really know… "You're a really bad liar."  
I'm sure it was something you really desired!

"We'll see." Hey, wait, give me that! Don't steal my script!  
"You don't need it now, plus it was already ripped.  
Let me see. Hey, it does say! I opened my box…  
Oh you've got to be shitting me. They gave me _socks_?!"

Don't glare at me, I didn't write this, you know  
"What the Hell kind of ending is this? Damn, this blows!  
You know what? Fuck the morals, what Spain said was true:  
If you don't get good presents then Christmas is poo."

Just ignore him! He's bitter. But everyone ought  
To believe in the message that Italy taught  
He was right when he said that we need to care less  
About commercialism and all of the stress

We just need to remember what Christmas is for  
That is, spending the day with those whom we adore  
Even Prussia was capable of Christmas cheer  
"Dude, fuck that, I'm _so_ blowing up Christmas next year."


End file.
